


A Man Has Reasons of His Own

by assassinistress



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Beating, Curiosity, F/M, Friendship, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Locked In, Mutilation, Mystery, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassinistress/pseuds/assassinistress
Summary: Arya Stark disguised as Arry meets a mysterious man locked up in a cage while travelling North to reach the Wall with a batch of Night's Watch recruits.She and the assassin speak and he rescues her from a rather atrocious incident. Although she fears him at the same time, she cannot suppress her curiosity to visit the locked-up Lorathi at night and find out the truth.NOTE: the events that happen in my story are not necessarily in the order in which they happen in the series or books. I am going to lead the story away from the original anyway.





	1. Two Encouters

**Author's Note:**

> The story starts where Arya first meets Jaqen in ASoIaF but it will soon diverge from the plot of the series. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is my second attempt at writing a story and finally having the courage to post it. I am not a native and I don't have a Beta (if anyone feels happy to Beta for me I would be very happy) so there might be mistakes. A writer must ask forgiveness.

The girl had gathered a bunch of sticks for a fire after making water near a nearby stream when she passed them.

“Boy, lovely boy.”

She had seen the men before, locked up in a barred cell on a wagon, though she’d never come close, let alone talked to them.

“What do you want?”

Almost involuntarily she stepped closer drawn to the mysterious man with his read hair with a snow white streak.

“A man has a thirst, a man does not drink for a day and a night, a boy could make a friend.”

His voice was low and husky and he had an accent and a way of speaking she’d never heard before.

She knew the men in the cage were there for a reason. Though it was true her party on their way to take the black at the wall were no sweethearts either, these three must have done such unspeakable things that they were too dangerous to let them roam free. However her curiosity was piqued and she moved closer to the bars.

“I have friends.” She stated boldly not showing any fear.

A filthy looking man called Rorge leaned forward, grabbed the bars and made his threat;

“Give us beer before I skin you”.

Her eyes flashed back to the man who had just offered to be ‘her friend’ to check his reaction.

“A man does not choose his compagnions, these two they have no courtesy, a man must ask forgiveness.”At this he casted his eyes down and when he looked back up his light blue eyes bore into hers. She was locked in place staring into the stranger’s eyes.

“You are called Arry” he purred, his cat-like eyes never leaving her face.

She gave a shy nod to confirm.

“This man has the honor to be Jaqen H’ghar, once of the free city of Lorath...”

But before he could say anything more Rorge rasped out at her.

“Beer, get us beer you little shit”

Jaqen flinched in annoyance and Arya even more annoyed, threw aside the bunch of wood and approached the bars with a single stick.

“You should have asked nicely.” She she said as she tried to hit Rorge on his hands but he pulled back and tried to grab hold of the stick.

In the corner of the cell the man called Jaqen observed the spectacle and grinned widely, amused by the spunk in the little wisp of a boy.

“Come closer and I’ll shove that stick up your bunghole and fuck you bloody” Rorge hissed.

Another bald, hunched and vile looking man with animal like teeth, sharp and very dirty, now also leaned in. Biter is what they called him probably for some unsavoury reasons she did not want to learn more about. When she looked at Jaqen again his full lips smiled a lopsided grin and he purred

“A boy has more courage than sense.”

“Yoren said none of us were to go near those three.” Gendry warned her as he walked up with a pile of firewood.

“They don’t scare me” Arry spat out.

“Hm? Then you’re stupid....they scare me.” Gendry mumbled as they walked off together.

In his cage Jaqen sat back and tried to ignore the cursing of his compagnions concentrating rather on what had just transpired. Remarkable, the courage of this little _girl_ , he thought. With her short hair and boyish behaviour it was not very strange to mistake this little person for a boy. Boys of that age have not developed very manly feats yet. But to Jaqen it had been clear from the first moment he spotted her with her friends, Arry was most definitely a young girl, and a lovely one at that.

She did not give him the water he had asked for but they had made their first contact and he had not missed the curiosity in her eyes. This would not be the last time they’d speak.

  


A couple of days later Arry and her pack, Lommy, Gendry and Hot Pie were in the midsts of a discussion about knights and armour while cleaning pots and pans by the side of the river. While Lommy tried to lure Hot Pie into slipping up so he could make even more fun of him, Gendry moved closer to Arry.

“Why did you even talk to those guys?

“What guys?”Arry countered knowing perfectly well what he was on about.

”Don’t be stupid, the thugs in the cage is what I’m talking about, what the hell were you talking to them for?” Gendry grunted while scrubbing irritably at a blackened pot.

“Those guys are in there for a reason you know” he went on.

Arya roled her eyes.

“I know but they’re _in_ _a cage_ like you said, what’s the big deal?...Besides one of them is rather normal compared to the other two.”

Gendry snorted “The silent one who doesn’t curse from dusk till dawn you mean? Oh yeah, he’s totally innocent, that’s probably why they’ve him locked up with that filth.”

Arry froze holding a pile of plates half way in the water. Of course he had a point but she could not help feeling scolded by her friend so she gave an abbreviated huff, dropped the plates into the water with a splash and angrily trotted off.

“Arry? C’mon” Gendry tried but by the way she walked he knew he should just let it go for now.

From his cage Jaqen followed his lovely girl with his eyes.

  


After a couple of minutes of stomping through the woods Arya realized that she’d actually walked quite a distance up stream. The air was warm and there was no one around. The water of the creek was undulating and the sun was throwing flashes of light across her face. She did an extra check before she quickly slipped out of her tunic and made her way into the water wearing only her underclothes. The water was cool and tingled her skin. It felt good to wash off the grime of being on the road at least a bit. Her thoughts began to drift off while she absentmindedly rubbed her hands over her upper arms and shoulders.

Jaqen H’ghar....what could possibly be the crime that put him in that cage with those filthy freaks? He didn’t seem aggressive or mean at all. He’d shown he had manners. She couldn’t deny that he was ruggedly handsome with his bronze skin and those light blue eyes, the way his full lower lip moved when he spoke in his strange accented third person way of speaking. Does everyone from Lorath speak this way? she wondered. She tried to remember the lessons on foreign countries and cultures her septa had unsuccessfully tried to bestow on her. If she would have actually paid attention during these lessons she might have found the answer somewhere in her memory. Just as she might have noticed someone approaching if she would have paid more attention to her surroundings instead of thinking about the locked up Lorathi at that moment.

Too late... by the time she noticed someone getting up to her from behind the bushes he’d already grabbed her by the arm and tried to drag her into a bush with him. Her eyes flashed from a filthy hand with rancid black nails to the face she’d last seen in a barred cell on a wagon.

“I guess I won’t use _that stick_ to fuck you bloody _girl_ ” Rorge grunted and spat as he clawed at her bra.

Arya’s heart was pounding in her ears as she frantically tried to wriggle out of Rorge’s vice like grip. He pushed her onto the ground hard and while holding her down with one hand his other clawed at his belt trying hurriedly get out of his breeches.

He pushed himself on top of Arya whose thoughts were whirling around in her head in an attempt to make sense of what was happening and a way to escape her horrible faith.

Just as Rorge tried to wriggle his hands into her panties, his sickening breath gushing over her face, his narrowed down eyes bulged in a look of utter surprise when Arya noticed a figure standing over the both of them pulling Rorge up by his long greasy hair. A flash of silver and then a gulf of warm sticky liquid splashing over her chest. It all happened so fast that only after a couple of seconds the realisation hit her. She was staring into the face of a dying man gasping for breath but unable to take in any air due to a gaping wound separating his trachea. Filthy hands clawing at his throat. His mouth slowly turning purple looked to be forming words but none came. Just before Rorges lifeless body could crash down upon her it was yanked away and thrown to the side.

Arya’s huge eyes stared up to a dark figure of a man, she was unable to see his face but the sun filtering through the leaves threw a red halo around Jaqen’s shoulder length locks. He held out his hand to her. It took her a couple of seconds to react but then she weakly reached out for him still laying on the ground covered in blood, it’s metallic smell surrounding her. He bent down to take her hand and carefully helped her up.

“Are you unharmed lovely girl?” He said in a worried voice.

All Arya could do was look from her bloody body and hands back to Jaqen and give a confused nod.

“There is not much time, quickly wash up and get dressed, a girl needs to get back before anyone notices her missing.” One side of his mouth quirked up “It seems fortunate that it were only a girl’s underclothes that got covered in blood.”

How could he be joking after all that had just happened? But she had no time to get angry about that.

“Quickly girl, go now, a man must leave aswell, will a girl be alright?”

Again Arya nodded still half dazed and started stumbling towards the water. Jaqen turned in the opposite direction and looking over his shoulder gave her one more look and a nod and then disappeared behind the trees. Arya still dazed and breathing heavily made for the water twice looking over her shoulder to the lifeless body of Rorge and also to see if she could still spot her saviour. She was shaking but then came to the realisation that she wasn’t sure if it was because she was cold, scared or maybe that she was shaking with a weird kind of excitement. Jaqen had just saved her. Had just killed for her. Where had he come from....wasn’t he supposed to be locked up? And why risk getting caught instead of just fleeing now that he had seemed to escape anyway.

Flashes of what had just transpired came back to her mind. She scrubbed at the blood that was already starting to dry up in places. After she got all of it off her skin and her once white underclothes were now just an ugly stained pink. She shook off the excess water, pulled her breeches over her damp thighs and slipped her tunic over her wet shoulders. She took one last look at her now dead assailant and scampered back in the direction of the base.


	2. A Man Decided To Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry or you are welcome (whatever you are into) for the violence in this chapter. For the Jaqen lovers (like me) don't worry I won't kill him....or maybe I will :D

She hadn’t walked 50 meters when Arya saw the bodies of two men lying face down between the leaves. She didn’t know why she even thought of doing so but the urge to turn one of the men over and look at the dead man pulled at her. What had happened that made her so interested in looking at dead people? Hadn’t she had her fill when she saw her father beheaded? No, this was different. For a start this was not one of her family members. She flipped over the body of one of the men over and looked at his blank expression, mouth slightly agape. It was a guard she’d seen before. They must have escorted Rorge to relief himself and that piece of shit must have gotten hold of a dagger because this guard had been stabbed in the gut.

She walked over to the other guard whose corpse was lying facing down and away from her between sticky red leaves. When she turned him over she saw a knife protruding from his eye. Hells, Rorge just left the thing in there not even bothering to take it with him. It didn’t matter. He was dead and so were these two brothers of the Night’s Watch-to-be. As she got up to proceed to the camp she heard men approaching. As being found here hunched over two dead men seemed likely to give her even more trouble Arya quickly hid in a ditch covered by some bushes. From her hideout she could see five men of their company approaching.

“Fuck” one of them said, “It’s Lucas....fuck, fuck, fuck, and Barden!”

The man Arya knew to be named Randall walked over to Barden and squatted next to the body.

“Those pieces of shit stabbed him right in the eye! We have to find them before they kill all of us in our sleep!”

 _Pieces of shit? Them?...did they think Jaqen too had a hand in this? and did he?_ He saved her that much was true but what was also true is that the three of them were in a cage because they were too damned dangerous to be out with the rest of the men. It was not unthinkable that they had escaped together and Jaqen had turned on his culprit. After all he was out, and Rorge was dead.

“You” Randall said while pointing at one of his men “Go get backup, we need to catch these sick fucks! The rest of you with me, we need to be fast before they get too far away or ambush us.”

From her squatted position in the bushes she saw the faces of the men. They didn’t seem too eager to go look for two dangerous possibly armed criminals in the middle of the woods but they reluctantly followed, eyes skittishly darting around for any movement.

Arya kept very still not to betray her position as the men hurried off in the direction where she had just been attacked and where Rorge lay with his breeches half pulled down, purple lips and slit throat. They would soon find him and might be relieved to learn that now they’d just have to track down _one_ cold blooded terrifying killer. When the group was well out of hearing range Arya kept to one side of the ditch not to be spotted and rushed back to the camp. She took a detour so that she would arrive at the camp from the other side not to raise any suspicion.

 

When she reached the temporary establishment she tried to act as casual as possible. Men were walking around mumbling to each other and constantly looking around uneasily. She went directly for the makeshift forge set up in an abandoned shed where she knew she’d probably find Gendry. She was surprised to see Lommy and Hot Pie gathered in the hot workshop as well.

“Gods Arry there you are!” Hot Pie exclamed

“What’s going on? What are you all doing here?” she asked sounding as genuinely confused as possible.

“What do you mean what’s going on? Where have you been?” Lommy asked.

“Don’t you know your new ‘friend’ is on the loose, leaving a trail of dead men but _you_ are probably not worried after all he’s the ‘normal one’”. Gendry mocked in chagrin pulling Arya out of the doorframe by her arm and quickly shut the heavy wooden door behind her.

Lommy and Hot Pie gave eachother a confused look.

“He has killed two guards and that piece of shit Rorge too...slit his throat like it was nothing. Not like I’d shed a tear over that piece of filth but Gods, if they don’t catch him he could come back and kill us all in our sleep!” Hot Pie’s eyes were huge and he was fidgeting with a dagger as he said it.

“What happened to the other guy?” Arya asked.

Gendry raised his eyebrow “What other guy?”

“The other guy in the cage, Biter?”

“Oh he’d been knocked out but he is still locked up. No one knows how this Jaqen guy escaped.” He continued “A guard said two guys took Rorge out for a piss and kept the other two locked up.”

Lommy lowered his voice and whispered “I’ve heard people say the guy is a dangerous elite assassin from Bravos, they say he’s killed more men than can be counted.”

Arya raised her eyebrow and rolled her eyes. Lommy was one for gossip. The group just stared at each other in silence.

 

They’d been in the forge for a good half hour when they heard men shouting outside.

“Shiiiiiit!” Hot Pie’s eyes became even bigger and he clamped on to his dagger “I....I’m not going out to see what’s going on” he said vigorously shaking his head.

Arya sighed “Oh fine just stay here and hope he won’t find you here alone. _We_ will go and check it out” Arry said as she pushed towards the door.

“Uh....We are?” Lommy asked sounding worried.

But before he could get his answer Arya had already stepped outside. Gendry and Lommy on her heels.

“Guys? Hey....wait I’ll come with you” came Hot Pie’s voice from the forge in a higher pitch than normal.

“They’ve got that bastard!” a brother yelled as he ran by in the direction of the main camp area.

Arya’s heart skipped a beat though she wasn’t completely sure why. Jaqen did save her after all, maybe she had secretly wanted for him to succeed in his escape. Maybe she was just relieved that he was found and locked up again so he wouldn’t kill all of them _in their sleep_. Or maybe it happened because she realized she’d get a chance to see him and talk to him again... maybe even thank him. No that was silly, she shook her head to shake off the thought. But some weird feeling kept nagging in her gut.

 

A group of men had gathered around and had formed a kind of passageway. Arya, Gendry and Lommy followed by Hot Pie still clamping the dagger firmly in his right fist approached the men from behind and tried to squeeze between them to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Arya, the shortest and slimmest of the pack slipped past the men with ease and found herself looking at a couple of brothers escorting a bloodied redhaired Lorathi assassin to a thick wooden post.

His hands were tied behind his back and his upper arms were strapped to his torso with ropes. His blouse was ripped and he had a bloody cut from his shoulder to his chest. They yanked the rope on which they led him making him stumble and fall to his knees landing only half a meter from where she was standing. He gave a grunt. His head was bent and his hair fell forward covering his bruised face. It was clear he had put up a fight but had lost against the five men sent to get him and clearly got beaten in the face with the pommel of a sword in the process.

“Hello lovely girl, a man decided to come back” he whispered to her still on his knees.

Even though she couldn’t see his face she heard he was grinning as he said it. She just stared eyebrows raised unable to do or say anything. Two brothers, now less afraid with Jaqen tied up, grabbed him by the arms and pulled him to his feet.

“Keep walking you piece of shit!”

Jaqen gave a low guttural grunt as the guard squeezed his abused shoulder. They led him to the pole and yanked down his already torn shirt revealing his bronze muscular back. Arya let her eyes slide from his broad shoulders, shoulder blades and the muscles between them, from the long muscles along his spine to the small of his back. She pulled her lip between her teeth and chewed it. Jaqen was pushed against the pole with his hands tied above his head around the pole. Arya’s took in a sharp breath of air when she realized what they were about to do. She looked around for her friends. Lommy, who was slim enough to squeeze through the wall of men, had come up next to her.

“They’ll beat him to a pulp” he said unsure of  how to feel about that.

He didn’t really have the stomach to keep watching. Randall stepped up with a thin flexible switch. The other brothers started yelling

“Teach that motherfucker!”

“For Lucas and Barden!”

“Yeah lash that killer!” cheers and shouts filled the camp.

Arya’s eyes were glued to the scene unable to look away even though she really did not want witness what her ‘brothers’ were about to do to the man who had saved her today. Randall raised the switch and lashed out at Jaqen’s back. An angry red streak appeared on the bronze flesh but he did not make a sound. The yelling swelled and Randall lashed out again, this time harder, making the flesh split and blood slowly started to form on the lash. Jaqen’s shoulders twitched but he didn’t make a sound as the third blow created another bloody mark on his flesh. Again and again Randall lashed out. After a good 15 lashes Jaqen started to grunt when the rod hit his already bleeding flesh. The sound it made caused Arya’s stomach to turn.

She couldn’t watch it any longer, it was like she snapped out of her frozen reverie, turned and then pushed and wriggled her way through the men. She started running, her feet flying over the leaves and twigs. She ran so fast that she got a metallic taste in her mouth but kept on running until she reached the river. Panting she leaned her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She stared at her feet but her eyes didn’t register anything. He had helped her and she’d ran. She could have said something, anything but she left him there tied to a pole to be beaten by an angry mob who thought he’d killed two of their brothers. _Which he hadn’t had he_? Oh gods, she didn’t even know if he _did_ kill them, or as a matter of fact who he was. He could be a rapist himself. What did it mean that he had helped her? It was not like she could just trust him now. She realized she was trying to justify her lack of action to help him but it didn’t work, she felt like she had betrayed the stranger who had come to her rescue. She shuddered when she thought of what could have happened if Jaqen hadn’t come for her.

Maybe they have killed him by now. Gods, I hope they don’t kill him she thought, suddenly concerned about the mere possibility. Her eyes filled with worry. One man less at the wall wouldn’t make much of a difference. No one would probably miss him....a flash of his bronze skin moving over his back muscles as they had raised Jaqen’s arm flashed before her mind's eye. Arya roughly shook her head while scowling. What was wrong with her? After all that had happened today this is what popped up in her mind? She mentally kicked her own shins for not being able to control her thoughts. She had never cared about boys at all...

 

Well there was this one time when after days in the muck the black brothers headed for the wall found a clear stream and had all happily taken of at least their shirts to go wash the grime off their bodies. Arry had just squatted down to wash her face and arms. How she had longed to properly wash up after so many days in the dirt but since she was now three and ten her female forms had begun to fill out a bit and it would not have done to have a hundred men noticing Arry was actually a girl. Some of her brothers had mocked her for her prudence or had joked around at her expense. She did not care about their remarks. A couple of meters from where she’d squatted down Gendry had taken off his shirt too and Arya noticed that even though she tried to avert her eyes they kept wandering back to Gendry’s chest and abdomen.

The way the water mixed with the dirt and trickled down over his tight muscles. The sun reflected on the water and sent starbursts from his shoulders and upper arms where the water and sun met.

“Arya fucking Stark get it together alright”. She scolded herself under her breath. She pushed off her knees to stand, threw her head in her neck and let out a long breath. When she tilted her head back again she had made a decision...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.  
> If you liked it please let me know. If you think this chapter sucked, feel free to let me know too. It's a learning process for me still. I would love it if you leave comment!


	3. A Boy Is A Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter but not without important information.

It was almost completely dark when Arya walked up to her group of friends sitting around the crackling fire eating bread and roasting pheasant.

“Seven hells Arry, why do you keep running off today? We were worried!” Lommy exclaimed his blond curls bouncing around his head as he shook it with a worried look on his face. “Are you alright?”

The rest of the group turned around to look at her.

“I’m fine” she mumbled as she came walking up to sit by the fire.

The smell of the food made her realize she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and she was starving.

“I just didn’t feel like staying there and watch a man get beaten up when he can’t defend himself.” She caught herself using Jaqen’s signature third person speech but nobody noticed since she was actually talking about a third person. _I could have just said him or Jaqen_ , she thought analyzing her own words. She shrugged, grabbed a large hunk of bread and pulled off a chunk of the hot meat. She greedily started eating but then stopped herself from devouring all of her food at once. Instead she plucked off another piece of the hot meat and took small bites of the bread.

“Is he dead?” she tried to sound as indifferent as possible staring into the flames.

“Don’t think so, they’ve beaten him senseless but he was still breathing when they dragged him off. They’ve put him back in the cage with Rorge’s buddy Biter.” Hot Pie said chewing his meat.

 _Seven hells_ , Arya thought, _he’s been beaten half unconscious and they’ve thrown him back in the cage with that monster, while he won’t be able to defend himself_. She almost got angry with Hot Pie for saying it so carelessly while holding the drumstick in his fat little fist and biting into it.

She needed to find a way to saunter off with the food without anyone noticing but since she couldn’t find a proper excuse to leave with her food she just sat plucking at it endlessly staring into the fire. Finally Lommy and Hot Pie moved to get up.

“I’m gonna check on the horses” Lommy said, Hot Pie just followed wiping the grease off his chin with his sleeve.

“Are you sure you are ok Arry?” Gendry fished when the two friends were out of hearing range.

“Yeah....yeah why?”

“I don’t know, the last couple of days you seem to be a bit absent and.... easily vexed.” It sounded like the dark blacksmith had something more to tell her.

Arya just stared at her friend with a blank look on her face.

“Are you having your period or something?” Gendry didn’t know how else to start the conversation.

It didn’t sound like a joke and Arya raised both her eyebrows in surprise.

“Come on Arry, I’m your friend” he prodded.

“I don’t know what the seven hells you are talking about! Do you think you’re funny or something?” she snapped at him.

Gendry pushed some dirt towards the fire with his foot, he didn’t look at her but he sounded sure.

“Look _Arry._ ” He dragged his blue eyes from his foot to her face. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, and the way you behave....you might think I’m a stupid bull but I know you are a girl. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“The way I look at you?” she spat out with a combination of irritation and surprise. “I am not looking at you at all! What the hell are you thinking! That you sweep me off my feet you stupid idiot!”

“So you are a girl?” Gendry’s voice was calm and flat when he asked her the question which was put more like a statement.

Arya sighed when she realized there was no point in denying, although she didn’t agree with the way he came to his conclusion, she conceded. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

“I did” Gendry replied.

“What???” Arya almost choked on the bread she had just put in her mouth.

“Promise....already” he clarified to comfort her while slapping her on the back.

Arya’s tense body slumped back into a normal seated position.

Gendry chuckled “I won’t tell anyone, you have my word.”

Arya sighed and looked at her friend. “My name is not Arry, it’s Arya Stark, I’m the youngest....”

Gendry cut her off with an incredulous look on his face.

“The youngest daughther of Eddard and Catelyn Stark of Winterfel?”

Arya sighed again “Yeah.”

His eyes darted from left to right as several realisations hit him.

“So you are a highborn then, you are a lady” the realisation dawned on him.

“No!.... I mean yes, my mother was a lady and my sister...”

Gendry cut her off again “But you are a Lord’s daughter and you lived in a castle....look all of those dirty jokes, I shouldn’t have said that, and I’ve been pissing in front of you and everything” he paused shaking his head. “I should be calling you Milady”

Arya started “Do _not_ call me Milady!”

“As Milady commands”

Arya gave Gendry a shove in the chest.

“Well that was unlady like!” Gendry joked.

She pushed him again this time hard enough to topple him. Sitting in a pile of leaves leaning on one elbow he chuckled. That she was a girl he’d known for a while but a highborn lady at that. Not that it made any difference, she still behaved like a angry little boy... He’d just have something to goad her. Arya stomped away into the dark but not before grabbing the bread and meat she had managed to wrap into a piece of linen.

 

Now there were three people in the camp who knew she was a girl. Well four actually but lucky for her one of them ended that realisation just in time. Yoren had helped her all the way here and had always been loyal to her father, she trusted him with her life. Gendry was a tease but after all this time in his company she found that he had a good heart and she trusted him not to tell anyone. But what did she really know about Jaqen? His name and that he was ‘once from the free city of Lorath’ which all might just as well all be a lie. But he saved her, at least her dignity and he had paid a rather high price for it. And she hadn’t done anything to stop those men from flogging him. She could have told them he had saved her, she could have even pretended Rorge didn’t know she was a girl and just wanted to have a go at a young boy and Jaqen had stopped him. Why hadn’t she done anything? She had to get to him even if it was a mistake. She just had to see for herself that he was there....She just needed to see....him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment to help me become a better writer!


	4. A Girl Has a Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nice and long chapter with lots of Jaqen-Arya interaction. Have fun!

It was well after midnight and only when Arya was sure everyone was sleeping she slipped away from the fire. Hot Pie, Gendry, Lommy and a couple of brothers were sleeping around the smouldering fire. She tucked the linen wrapped bread and pheasant meat in the back of her trousers and strapped a water flask to her hip. When she made sure no one was awake she slowly made her way out of the reach of the fire and slipped into the dark of the night. She weaved in and out of the shadows but made sure to stay on the grass to avoid the sound of twigs snapping under her boots. On her way she passed the tent in which the group kept the medical supplies where she found a piece of cloth and some disinfectant. After a bit more sneaking through the woods around the camp she ended up at the back of the cage.

The fire burning a bit further on dimly lit the front of the wagon. She could make out the contours of two men in the cell. One was laying in the corner and was facing her. She couldn’t see his face due to the backlight but she knew it was Biter. He was bald and had a hunched figure. The other man was leaning against the side of the cage. He sat with his back towards her his head leaning against the bars, his shoulder length hair dangling loose and swaying slightly in the breeze. The white streak in his hair almost seemed to glow a bright white in the light of the half moon. Both appeared to be sleeping. As soon as she made sure the brother patrolling was out of sight she tiptoed closer to the back of the cage as silently as she could.

 

“A girl needs to work on her sneaking skills.” His deep Lorathi purr barely louder than a whisper startled her.

He didn’t turn to face her. She looked at his back in horror. There must have been over 50 lashes, some still wet with blood some dried up partially. She stood frozen in place staring at Jaqen’s abused back and shoulders.

“Why is it that a lovely is girl sneaking about at this hour?” he asked her in his dark voice.

“I....eh....I brought you some water.” Arya mumbled.

Out of her sight Jaqen’s mouth curled into a smile. He shifted, leaned on one arm and turned a quarter turn towards where Arya was standing. His face pulled into a grimace as his skin moved over his back. He swallowed, let the breath that he had held out through his nose and leaned his head against the bars again closing his eyes in exhaustion. After a few moments his low voice whisperd to her again.

“A sweet girl brings a man a gift in the middle of the night. Why?” he had opened his eyes and pried at her from under his brow making him look like a predator with bright blue eyes.

Arya hadn’t prepared for that question and so didn’t have an answer at ready.

“Well, a.......a couple of days ago you....... asked me for water and I didn’t bring you any....I just thought.....eh...I also brought you some food.” She stammered unable to keep his gaze.

Jaqen closed his eyes again and smiled, his head still leaning against the bars. His lovely girl had brought him food and drink. She held out the linen wrapped bread and meat. Jaqen opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to face her. He looked at her from under his brow with his bright blue cat eyes. It made the hair at the back of her neck stand up and gave her a strange fluttering feeling in her gut. _Where does that come from?_ She took a step closer to the cage as he held out his hand towards her to take what she was offering. Their fingers didn’t touch as he took the cloth out of her hand but she could feel the heat of his body radiating off him. _He must have a fever_ , she thought.

“Thank you, lovely girl” he purred as he pulled her _gift_ into the cage.

He seemed to move in slow motion as he unwrapped the bread and lazily started plucking at it popping pieces of it in his mouth along with some of the white meat.

Arya unbuckled the laces of the flask of water she kept strapped to her hip and handed it to him too. He flinched as he threw his head back slightly, brought the flask to his mouth and took a long swig. From the side the light of the flames in the distance illuminated Jaqen’s chest. All the old gods and new help me, she thought looking at his throat move as he swallowed, down to where his collarbones came together in the hollow of his neck, where his chest rose and fell just above his tanned abdomen licked by the orange light of the fire. She quickly cast her eyes down to her feet when she noticed him lower the flask. He chewed the bread slowly all the while observing her. She didn’t look at him but she could feel him watching her.

“A girl has questions.” he spoke.

Her eyes searched the ground as if she would find answers there.

“Does it hurt” she finally blurted out.

 _What a stupid question._  She cursed at herself internally for not picking a better question from all the interpellations spinning around in her head all day.

“A girl worries about a man?” he answered her question with one of his own.

Was this a trick question? The conversation didn’t at all go as she had imagined it would.

“You helped me today, I just wanted to thank you.” She had practiced it in her mind a hundred times but it still sounded strange to her own ears.

He gave her a respectful nod, showing his acceptence of her gratitude.

“But?” he asked after long seconds of silence.

 _How the hells did he hear that there was more_? Arya bit her lip.

“But why?” she said after a pause and tilted her head slightly to the left to be able to look at him better as she asked the question. He took his time before he spoke finding the right words. A man was a thinker, not a talker and he only seemed to speak when he needed to.  

“A young girl pretending to be a little boy is not safe in the company of a hundred men who are off to a place with no women for the rest of their days. A man’s travel companion would talk, more people would know and a girl would not be safe anymore. It is true that a girl has friends but they can not always be around to protect her.”

She nodded barely perceptible understanding what he meant. She still shuddered at the thought of Rorge clawing at her body and knew Jaqen was right. The brothers who got sent to the wall were not the noblest of men, she knew there were murderers, thieves and rapists among those in her company. And she had seen men driven blind and mad with lust do monstrous things in taverns and back alleys.

“If you wouldn't have been there today......” she stopped and bit her lip again.

“A man knows lovely girl.” he said reaching for her face.

She instinctively took a step back.

“I am sorry lovely girl, a man did not mean to startle you.” He grimaced as he moved back into the cage.

Her face mimicked his on it’s own accord with empathy.

“I brought some disinfectant, I could.....” What the hell was she proposing? To rub some disinfectant on the criminal’s bare back in a cage. But then again what was she expecting as she took the stuff from the tent, that he would apply it to his own back?

“A man has noticed before that a girl has more courage than sense.” He gave her another one of his lopsided grins.

She felt her cheeks burn but found comfort in the fact that it was probably too dark for him to notice.

He realized she was scared but at the same time bit back her fear in order to help him. He gave her a tilted nod and slowly turned his back towards her. She walked up to the bars and even though it was on the dark side of the cage she could see the blood glisten in the moonlight. She closed her eyes for a minute and swallowed hard.

“I should probably wash it a bit before I apply the disinfectant.” she said still grimacing as she looked at the bloody scars. He slowly tilted his head towards where the flask lay on the floor the cage. Arya followed his movement with her eyes and reached for the bottle. From the corner of his eyes Jaqen looked at her pale hand reaching through the lattice work. She hesitated a bit but then grabbed the flask and pulled it back through the bars. In the process the iron flask ticked against the steel trellis of the cage. Arya almost jumped in alarm. Her eyes flashed to Biter’s face to check if he’d woken up when she realized she had also moved behind Jaqen’s back.

“Did he wake up?” she whispered.

“Not likely so.” came Jaqen’s cryptic reply.

Arya’s heart was still pounding but she regained her posture and flask in hand stepped towards the bars again. Jaqen leaned his right shoulder down so that Arya could reach it to pour some water on his wounds.

“This might hurt a bit” she said biting her lip again.

“Not as much as a girl’s lip will hurt if she keeps biting it.” He countered.

 _How the hells did he know I was doing that? He couldn’t even see me!_ she thought in annoyance and awe. She quickly poured the water over the right side of Jaqen’s back. His shoulders hitched and he sharply sucked in air through his teeth.

“Maybe it is the intention of a wicked child to hurt a man.” he growled through clenched teeth.

“I warned you.” she said as she crumpled up the piece of cloth and dabbed at his wounds. “And I am not a child.”

Jaqen chuckled at that and lowered his left shoulder. He braced himself with his hands as she poured the water over his other shoulder, dabbing the blood away as softly as she could.

She suddenly couldn’t suppress a giggle as she thought of the situation playing before her own eyes. Here she was rubbing the bloody back of a possibly dangerous assassin (that he could kill spending hardly any effort she had witnessed firsthand today) while joking as if they were old friends.

“Would a girl mind telling a man what seems to be funny so that a man may laugh too?” He sounded serious but somehow she knew he wasn’t really earnest.

“It’s nothing” she said.

“Oh” was his reply.

She smiled at his reaction and decided to elaborate.

“I just thought about how little we know about one another.”

Her honesty surprised him.

“Just so” he said as he squinted slightly and gazed into the fire in the distance.

 

There were indeed many things she did not know and he would not tell her until she would learn to ask the right questions. Why for instance he was in this cage, and how he got out today. Little too did she know that it had also been his intention from the start to be put back in there again. It was a lack of providence on his side that he didn’t see such a beating coming. Honestly it was over the top, he thought as he felt the girl carefully handle his wounds. He had had worse but it promised to be long and uncomfortable night as every pose he’d tried proven too painful to fall asleep.

His silence unsettled her a bit and she remembered Gendry’s words. “ _Those guys are in there for a reason you know.”_ She fumbled with the cloth.

“I will have to be heading back soon, let me apply the ointment and I’ll be off.” she said.

He didn’t reply and her feeling of unease grew. She quickly took out the disinfectant balm and rubbed it on a clean part of the cloth. As she reached out her hand to apply the salve on the wounds Jaqen spoke again.

“If a girl decides to go sneaking off in the night again and finds herself here with a man she may like to play the Game of Faces.” he purred softly as he felt her hands perform their ministrations on his back.

Arya frowned.

“What is the Game of Faces?” she asked curiously.

“She will see.” was all he said.

She grunted. I _s speaking in riddles the only way this man knows how to speak?_

 

Fibers of the cloth got stuck in the ointment as she was applying the sticky balm to Jaqen’s wounds. She wavered a bit but decided it would be better to lose the cloth. She scooped up some of the balm with her fingers and as carefully as she could not to hurt him applied it to the rest of his wounds in silence. He followed her every move of her slender fingers on his skin. He knew that she was thinking about his offer. He also knew exactly the effect of his words on this intriguing little girl, giving her just the right amount of information to become curious enough the come back to him.

“Done.” she said wiping her hands on her tunic.

So young, and just like a little boy, he thought. He turned around to face her, this time also turning his whole body in her direction. Arya had the hardest time to keep his gaze and not to let her eyes flutter around all over the place.

“I have to go now.” she said shuffling her feet.

Jaqen nodded. He picked up the piece of linen that the food had been wrapped with and held it in front of him just outside the bars of the cage.

When she reached out to take it from him he grabbed her wrist quick as a viper. Her heart leapt in her throat and her eyes flew from where his rough calloused hand had wrapped around her tiny white-skinned wrist to his almond shaped eyes. He was not hurting her at all but Gods he was fast. She breathed shallowly through her mouth. His eyes bore into hers and his grip softened along with his glance.

“Sweet girl...” he said with half lidded eyes and he slowly let her slip her hand out of his. “...a man will not forget this thing.”

Arya nodded still a bit affected with the start he gave her by grabbing her by the wrist so unexpectedly.

“Goodnight.” she mumbled and she didn’t know where to look so she turned around and started pacing back toward the camp looking over her shoulder every now and then until she could not make out the shapes of the men in it anymore.

“Goodnight lovely girl” the red haired assassin whispered while he followed her until his eyes could no longer make out her small frame in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter for the interaction between Arya and Jaqen. Hope you liked it. Please leave a comment if you have tips for me!  
> Thanks for reading :)


	5. The Game of Faces

Jaqen slowly held up his hands showing his palms as a sign of surrender as a brother named Luther checked the pulse of the bald criminal who was still laying on the floor of the cage in exactly the same position as he had been all night. “A man has not touched this traveling companion.” The Lorathi said raising his eyebrows. “Against the bars.” another brother barked at him. Jaqen slowly moved to the opposite side of the cage sitting down with his hands behind him just outside the bars. His back was dangerously close to touching the the steel trellis. The brother tied one of his wrists and then yanked his other arm back with such force that it pulled Jaqen’s back against the bars of the cage. Had this brother understood then what was hissed at him in Lorahi he certainly would have slept with one eye open from now on. With Jaqen tied up on the opposite side Luther opened the cage door and dragged Biter’s lifeless body out until his corpse hit the ground with a thump. “ _We_ will decide if you have or have not had a hand in this.” Luther snapped at him. It was near midday. Jaqen’s back felt better than yesterday due to the good care of a certain lovely girl and for the first time in days he didn’t feel very hungry. He hoped she would soon no longer be able to resist her curiosity and come to him. Until that time he would plan the course of things.

It soon became clear that there were no traces of violence to be found on Biter’s body and though the men remained suspicious of him, Jaqen did not get blamed for murdering the man. It also seemed true that no one really missed the criminal cursing in his cage, Jaqen least of all.

 

Two days passed before Arya couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. The previous night she had already gotten up and halfway to the tent where the brothers kept the medicine until she had stopped herself and went back to a rather restless sleep. This night sleep would not come. She had repeated her prayer over and over but to no result. She just tossed and turned until she finally decided to stop trying. She had saved some food and after doing a thorough check if everyone was sleeping slipped away from the fire and into the dark shadows of the forest surrounding the group.

Two nights ago the locked up Lorathi had somehow heard her coming. She had gone over it at least fifty times in her mind, she had been careful but apparently not careful enough. She had always been rather proud of her sneaking skills which she had learned from the best. Syrio Forel was the First sword of Bravos and her dancing master with whom she had trained in the capital. Her thoughts drifted off to Kings Landing. Oh how she missed her Syrio and their lessons. The moment she had learned that her father had arranged training sessions with him was one of the most exciting moments of her life. She always looked forward to sparring with him from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning and would not stop longing for them until the time he’d come and train with her. Syrio was a short man with black curls and an accent which was unfamiliar to her. He was strict but never unfriendly. And he was fast. The way he fought was so different to her than the way she had always watched her brother practicing in the courtyard. Up to the moment Syrio entered her life she had always tried to spend as much time as possible studying the Westerosi knights and young lords fight and watched them in awe. She dreamt of being able to fight like that but knew that as the youngest daughter of Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell she was destined for another life. One of stupid pretty dresses and boring embroidery lessons, she thought. Yes, she had always wanted to learn how to handle a sword but the Bravosi style made those sparring sessions in the courtyard look like the knights were butchers hacking away at each other with their heavy weapons. Water dancing is what her new tutor was teaching her and the name did honor to it’s practice. Syrio was light on his feet, fast like lightning and his movements were flowing like water with a result just as deadly. No, deadlier. She would practice everything he taught her in utter precision. Her father had once found her standing on one leg on the ledge of a window practicing her balance skills. Arya smiled a sad smile thinking back of the moment.

 

Her father had always tolerated her boyish behaviour up to a certain point. He seemed to even find it amusing that his youngest daughter rather studied her brothers fight than studied her knitting lessons. Arya swallowed. Her father wasn’t always the easiest one but he was an honorable and proud man with a good heart and the last time she had seen him he had been on his knees, being called a traitor and beheaded like one.

Arya realized she was squeezing her fists so tight that her knuckles had gone white and her short nails were pushing into the palms of her hands. Death seemed to surround her. Her father and the stable boy she had to kill to escape the capital. Only a couple of days ago she was almost raped by a dead man and got covered in his blood. She had stared into his face and at the faces of the two dead guards only minutes after that and she had felt.....nothing. She frowned and wondered at the realisation. Maybe watching her father beheaded had taken the healthy fear of death out of her and had replaced it with a numbness, maybe even a fascination for it. One moment they are here, in this world, then they are not.

She was standing there, barefoot, in the shadows of their camp. Dressed up as a boy on her way to meet a caged assassin. Syrio had once told her that clever girls go barefoot and tonight she had followed up on his advice. This time Jaqen would not hear her coming.

 

She was wrong.

 

“Perhaps a girl has forgotten how to dress herself?” came Jaqen’s low voice out of the dark corner of the steel prison that he now had to himself.

She had nearly reached the left side of the cage. This was ridiculous! She had done the planning, observed him for a good 15 minutes never leaving the shadows. She had picked the best side from which to approach, his back was turned to her and she had not even heard her own footsteps. The most grating of it all was that he had not just noticed her crawling up but had somehow even picked up that she was not wearing any shoes.

Jaqen had turned around and moved into the dim light of the moon. He chuckled at her miffed expression.

“Fortunately it is only her shoes that she has decided to forgo. A man remembers that a couple of days ago a lovely girl refrained from wearing all but her underthings.” Jaqen laughed.

Arya unsuccessfully tried to start for a reply but instead clenched her teeth. She opened her mouth again to say something but didn’t find the right words. Jaqen took advantage of the situation.

“If a girl came to play the Game of Faces and thought she could win by making the most irate expression a man must admit defeat.”

Arya’s eyes widened, she threw up her palms in desperation and grunted in annoyance. “Arrrrghhhhh” was the only reply she could utter.

Jaqen smiled at her. So young, he thought.

“A man merely jests lovely girl. What is it that brings a girl to a man tonight?”

“Well...” she started, “I brought you some food but I am not so sure if I will give it now.” She tried to tease him.

Jaqen played along and pretended to be hurt by her remark.

“Then a man won’t eat and he will die, is that what a wicked child wants?” He said as he looked at her raising one eyebrow. Arya grinned.

“Of course it will not be in her best interest for she will not have no one to play the Game of Faces.”

Arya stepped closer to the cage holding out a linnen wrapped package.

“Alright, tell me” she said self assured ignoring his strange way of speaking. She had already spent two sleepless nights wondering about this ‘Game of Faces’ and even her own stubbornness would not keep her from learning about it this night.

Jaqen had unwrapped the bread, cheese and a piece of sticky honey comb.

“A man has a bad influence on a lovely girl and put her on to thievery.” He grinned as he looked at the food and then started eating.

Arya looked at him mischievously.

“Maybe a girl is not not so lovely after all” she said tilting her head back a bit lifting her eyebrows.

“Hmmm.” is all he said while he licked some honey off his fingers.

Arya pushed the bottle of water through the bars of the cage and sat down on the grass on the dark side of the cage. She watched him while she waited for him to finish. By the way he moved when he drank from the flask it looked like the wounds on his back had started to heal and were not bothering him so much anymore.

When he had finished he moved to sit right across from her facing her sitting down on the floor of his cage. His underarms were resting on his knees.

 

“A girl came to play the game of faces, a man will teach her how to play.” He spoke. “A girl needs to be able to see a man’s face and his hands, the movements he makes, like a man needs to be able to see hers. Can she see?”

Arya looked at Jaqen’s face, her eyes quickly passed his bare chest as she looked at his hands and nodded, eagerly awaiting the rest of the instructions.

“A girl may ask a man a question. A man will answer and a girl will try to guess if what he says is the truth or a lie. If a girl is right she may ask another question, if she guesses wrong a man may ask her a question, yes?”

During the last couple of days Arya had thought up enough questions to write a book so this game was a perfect way to find out the answers to some of the things keeping her up at night. What a wonderful coincidence, just the game she was hoping to play.

“Yes.” She said giving him a curt nod.

“A girl may start.”

Arya looked at Jaqen for a while before she cleared her throat and asked

“How did you know I was sneaking up just now?.”

Jaqen grinned at her. He knew she was vexed at the fact he had know she was there. _Twice_.

“A man had seen a girl from afar” he tilted his head towards the direction she had indeed started from.

“And calculated the time it would take her from where she was until she would reach him.”

His eyes enlarged for a fraction of a second when he spoke the word ‘calculated’.

“He knew she would approach him from behind. This is how a man knows.” He spoke in an even voice not much different from the way he normally spoke.

Arya went through all of the signs again. His way of speaking and movements were not different from his normal speech pattern or expressions. He had pointed out the direction she had come from correctly and it made total sense for him to have calculated her from there to where he was.

But she had made sure that she stayed out of his line of sight and there was another thing. She had stood still in the shadows thinking of Syrio and her father. It was impossible for him to have known she would do that.

“You lie” she said not sounding very confident.

The Lorathi gave her a nod.

“A girl is right, a man was not speaking the truth, how did she know?”

She explained her theory but did not elaborate on why she had lingered in the dark.

“Clever child” Jaqen purred eyeing her with his blue almond eyes.

“But how _did_ you know?” she asked not being content with just knowing she had guessed the right answer.

“Is that the question a girl has won by calling a man out?” he asked her, knowing the answer already.

“No, I just want to know!” she said not wanting to give up her chance for another question.

“A man has ways.” Came Jaqen’s reply.

Arya pouted and gave him a withered look but he did not yield, though he did add.

“One day a man might teach a girl this thing. For now you may ask a man another question.”

 

Arya decided that she liked the idea of that and conceded. She gave a pause. There was a question that had burned inside of her for days. She bit her lip, then remembered Jaqen’s remark about biting her lip from two nights ago and released the flesh from between her teeth. She took a breath and blurted out her second question.

“Did you kill the guards in the woods before you found me and killed Rorge?” It felt strange to ask the question that had bounced around in her head in such a blunt way looking him right in the face but the game gave her the courage to do it.

It was a question Jaqen had anticipated. He did not seem to move a single muscle as he waited for her to finish speaking, he was silent for a couple of seconds and then answered her.

“A man did no such thing.”

Arya observed him intently as he spoke. Jaqen did not blink or flinch as he said it. His voice was even and his body still. He had slightly moved his head when he said ‘no’ as if he rejected the possibility. Though it was not his externality not even his eyes but a strange feeling coming from deep inside that convinced her.

“You are speaking the truth” she said not breaking their eye contact.

“And how does a girl know this thing to be true?” he asked her.

“She searched inside herself for an explanation but could not word it.

“I....I don’t know _how_ .... but I just _know_ it’s true” she finally admitted.

“A lovely girl has the right of it, a man is speaking the truth.” He said.

A strange kind of relief washed over her. Honestly she had wanted for him to be innocent of this thing.

“A girl has yet won another question, a man is impressed.” He spoke, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

 

As a matter of fact he was indeed impressed with this boyish young girl sitting cross legged and barefoot in front of his cage in the middle of the night. As she had been observing him and searched him for the truth, he simultaneously had been studying her. Her observation skills were not bad, her instinct was good and the way she deducted possibilities in search of the truth was admirable for a girl of her age. If he could find a way to successfully hone her skills she would make a fine servant for his god. He was not supposed to feel this excited, he knew. He had caught himself more than once planning her future for reasons that were not entirely to do with his faith. He had sworn his oaths to the Many Faced God and one of these oaths was not to covet anything out of selfish desire but no matter how he tried to justify his choices the Lorathi assassin could not deny that deep down there was a grain of _want_ at the bottom of all that had brought him here. A grain of _self_.

He inwardly grinned at himself in this situation, lashed and locked up in a cage playing games with a child. What was also true was that all he was still planning for her future could not be called entirely altruistic. It had been due to his own scheming and choice that he was locked up like he was, but days were long and he had been looking forward to interact with Arya again. After all she was the reason he had been here in the first place but she was not aware of this and needed not to know just yet. Feeding her bits of information though had, entirely according to his expectations, proven to work successfully and so he turned his full attention back to her again.

 

As he had been thinking his own private thoughts, Arya had also been lost in a cluster of thoughts and questions.

“Yes?” he asked her raising an eyebrow, waking her from her own world.

“Ah, my question....” she paused and thought again. “Can I really ask anything?” she sounded a bit unsure.

“A man has said” Jaqen answered with a nod.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Arya gets to play the game of faces. What do you think? Comments are very welcome.  
> Please help me out and tell me if there are inconsistencies or mistakes. Comments make for great help!  
> Thanks for reading!


	6. A Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry sorry sorry for the long wait. I got caught up in my other story and then got stuck in both :P  
> I hope the chapter will make up for the wait and I will try to post sooner next time.  
> For this chapter I have used some dialogue directly from the GOT TV series and I don't own this just borrowed it for the story.
> 
> Important note: Tennebrae pointed out that the events are not following the same order as in the series or books and that is right. I am using them to build towards where I want to go so please don't hold on to the story as it origionally is too much. I am skipping and shuffling some parts around here and there!

Gendry shook Arya a second time and this time she did wake up. 

“It’s nothing like you to sleep so deep, normally you wake up when someone as much as breathes in your direction.” Gendry said while extending his hand. “Tired were you?”

Arya rubbed her eyes and glanced around. Gendry was right, she normally slept very light and was alert even when it appeared she was resting. The sun had already come up behind the trees and a little further on men were packing the wagons. She grudgingly extended her hand and let him pull her up. 

“We are breaking up camp, better get some breakfast before you miss out and have to go on an empty stomach.” Gendry warned her while turning in the direction of the main camp area. 

Her friends had already packed and, after unsuccessfully trying to rouse her, left her by the doused fire to wake up on her own. She spotted Hot Pie’s bulky figure a bit further on strapping a saddlebag to one of the horses.

Arya, still half asleep, packed up her bedroll and the rest of her few possessions, needle carefully tucked in it’s slender sheath on her hip, and slowly started sauntering in the direction of the main area. She had almost passed the pole Jaqen had been tied to when he was flogged a few days earlier but stopped and looked at it. The sight of the thing sent a shiver down her spine and the image it brought back brought a whole string of memories with it, the most recent one of mere hours ago. Her look took on a faraway stare without focus.

\----

She had been sitting in front of his enclosure fully focussed on the enigmatic man from Lorath with whom she was playing the Game of Faces. It was dark and quiet save for the occasional whinnying of the horses or the howl of a wolf in the distance. He had assured her she could ask him any question but whether his answer was sincere or a fabrication was up to her to find out.

He waited patiently observing the whole spectacle of her internal struggle to find the right question and the wording of it displayed blatantly on her face. An amused smile played around his mouth. His sweet girl was so supremely far from faceless.

When she finally spoke her look was boastful. She looked up at him and gave him an impish smile.

“Why are you here?” 

With the very broad question she had merged several questions into one and gloated over her own ingenuity. If she could find out the truth of his answer she would unravel resolutions to many other of her unasked questions. Even if her appraisal was wrong, his words would surely shed a light on things.

Jaqen’s face was soft and friendly as he regarded his young  _ apprentice _ . He had come to think of her like that for, without being aware of it herself, she had agreed to his tutoring by playing his game. He sat up a bit straighter.

“A man’s reasons to be here are totally to do with you, lovely girl.” he said matter of factly looking her dead in the eye.

Arya furrowed her brow and looked at him in confusion. 

“What?”

_ What was that supposed to mean? Was he tricking her? Did he mean just tonight, playing this game? Did he see through her slyness and try to put her off track with his answer? Did he mean….. _

Her eyes became big with alarm, consternation clear on her face. She swallowed.

“I….I’m sorry.” she stammered. “I never meant for you to…” she didn’t finish her sentence but instead started gwawing her lip looking infinitely guilty, a deep line forming between her eyebrows.

It was Jaqen’s turn to look confused.

“What is it sweet girl?”

She cast her eyes down to where her nails were scraping the dry bark of a twig she had found on the grass near her feet. 

“It’s my fault, you saved me from Rorge and…. they beat you and…” 

Jaqen chuckled softly apprehending her interpretation of his words. 

Arya looked up at him fully perplexed. Her pained look now mixed with bewilderment.

“That is not what was meant lovely girl. A girl did not contribute to that, a man himself is responsible for his captivation. What was meant is that a man is here  _ for _ you.” 

If his clarification was good for anything at all, it caused her even more confusion. How could a criminal from Lorath be traveling in a cage with a company of men heading for the wall....  _ for her _ ? He didn’t know her. She hadn’t known him. It was impossible and made no sense whatsoever. She didn’t understand why he would make it so easy for her. Was this really his answer?

Arya shook her head. “No.” 

“No?” 

“No, that’s not true, how can you be here  _ for me _ ? that makes no sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” 

“No, ofcourse not.” she snorted “you don’t even know me!”

“Maybe a girl is wrong and a man knows a girl better than she thinks.” his eyes characteristically first narrowed and then enlarged when he spoke certain words.

“Are we still playing the game?”

“Just so.” 

“Well I think you are lying!” she uttered with an offended look on her face.

“No lovely girl, this is the truth.”

Arya looked around, her frown plastered on her forehead. Then she looked at him again and dug into her short-term memory. There had not been a sign of him lying, no blinking, nothing in his voice that didn’t correspond with the look in his eyes or the movements of his face and body. Her observation was telling her he was speaking the truth but her logic told her it was not possible. 

“How could you know me, have we met before?”

“This is not how the game works, a girl was wrong, it’s a man’s turn to ask her a question.” 

“But…”

He cut her short by giving her a stern look raising one eyebrow.

Arya ceased her protest but her defiant posture and the look on her face practically screamed her dissatisfaction. 

The sound of someone approaching broke their deadlock. Arya quickly ducked behind the wheel of the barred wagon opposite to where the sound was coming from. Jaqen passed her the piece of linen and the flask she had brought him earlier. From between the spokes of the wagon wheel she spied the brother who was on watch come up to the cage. He regarded Jaqen suspiciously. For a moment it looked like he was going to say something but instead he glanced around and proceeded his watch. When he was out of sight Arya popped up from behind the cart and crawled back to her spot. 

 

“Well?” her face had taken a look of surrender. She was ready for her question and if she was honest she was eager to take on the challenge of lying to the Lorathi criminal too see if she could trick him into believing her. 

“Who are you?” 

Her face fell. That was a huge question...she frowned but then Jaqen spotted a determined look take over her eyes. It was just a game right?

“My name is Arya. My family home is Winterfell, I’m the youngest daughter of a great lord Eddard Stark, de died in battle.”

“Tsk” Jaqen silenced her. “A lie.”

Arya felt a pang of reproach, but she sat up straighter and looked him dead in the eye. 

“After he was executed, I fled the capital. I had to kill a stable boy, drove my sword through his back.”

His eyebrows shot up but his narrowed eyes bore into hers scanning for the truth. “A lie.” the way he whispered it almost sounded like a threat.

“I stabbed him in the gut. I tried to find my mother and brother, but I never did. They were murdered. By Walder Frey.” 

Jaqen listened equanimously.

“An outlaw kidnapped me, a man called Polliver.”

The tutting sound alone was enough to indicate he caught her again. 

A man called  _ The Hound _ , Sandor Clegane. He tried to sell me but was wounded in a fight. He begged me to kill him but I wouldn’t. I left him in the mountains to die. I wanted him to suffer. I hated him.

“Tsk.”

She gave him a serious look. “I hated him.”

Jaqen just softly shook his head.

“That’s not a lie!” She almost shouted at him but restrained herself. 

He realized the bond the girl had built up with her kidnaper was a complicated one. She probably had hated him at some point but as she had lost all she ever had at her young age, and with him being the only one who still in a way cared for her he understood her ambivalence towards The Hound. He could read it in the fierceness in her eyes when she talked about him. She herself was too young to grasp this subliminal feeling. The master could read her better than she could know herself for now.   


“A girl may think she is not lying to a man, but she is in fact lying to herself.”   


He wasn’t scolding her but she felt somehow admonished, even though Jaqen’s voice and gestures were non-aggressive and his look maybe even slightly  _ empathic _ ? He had caught her with such ease, it was just exasperating! Except for the last fact of course, he was wrong, that was not a lie. 

“I don’t want to play this stupid game anymore.” she pouted.

The childish gesture made him chuckle. 

“Don’t fret lovely girl. A man has many things to teach, he will teach a girl if she is willing to learn.”

She did want to learn, and so the dejected look on her face faded away and turned into one of curiosity. 

“I want to learn.”

The Lorathi reached into his pocket and produced a strange round metal coin, a coin Arya had never seen before, not like the ones used in Westeros. 

“What is it?” 

“A promise, lovely girl.”

Arya studied the coin. One side represented a silhouette of a face, the other side depicted a dagger and a ribbon with the words Valar Morghulis engraved onto it. 

“A promise for what?”

“A promise that a man will teach a girl all he has to teach her. A way for her to find him when she is in need of his guidance.” His unclad chest rising and falling with every serene breath.

She looked at the coin and then at the Lorathi. The solemnity of his words made an intense  impression on her. The young girl on her way back to Winterfell, her family home, even though she had no family left waiting there for her. The stranger who promised to teach her and keep her safe and who sealed his promise to her with a token of his vow. The deferential way he treated her. She was lost for words and for lack of something to say, cast her eyes down and studied the coin. 

“Say the words.” 

“Valar…. Morghulis?”

“Very good.” 

\----

It felt like a dream to her, all that had happened the previous night. She nervously reached into her pocket fearing it had all just been a dream but when she felt the round metal disc between her fingers a strange feeling of privilege overtook her. She indulged in it a bit before she got startled out of her reverie. 

“Come on Arry! what the hell are you standing around for?” Yoren called out to her. “Make yourself useful boy and saddle that horse over there.” 

She obtusely scurried off into the bustle of the packing company. Everywhere brothers were breaking up camp or readying the charts for their journey to the next destination to set up camp. On her way she managed to pilfer a chunk of bread and some cheese from the lad who was packing up the pots and pans and stuffed her mouth while picking up the saddle and throwing it over the back of a grey mare. She was just about to tie the straps when she heard the sound of hooves approaching. Two men on horseback approached the group. Gendry had walked up to help her but her just as he squatted down to pick up her bedroll Arya ducked behind a barrel. 

“What are you doin?” 

“They are looking for me.” she said staring at him with big eyes. Gendry looked at the men wearing armour which indicated they were Lanister soldiers from King’s landing. Knowing who she was he understood her concern.

“Are you in command here?” one of the gold cloaks asked Yoren who had walked up to see what it was the men wanted. 

“You’re a long wa’ from ’ome” Yoren said while he walked up to the side of the man’s horse. 

“I asked you a question.”

“Aye, you did.” Yoren replied brazenly grabbing onto a leather plaid draped over the horse’s back. “You asked without manners, and I chose not to answer.”   


The soldier help up a rolled up piece of parchment. “I have a royal warrant….for one of these gutter rats you are transporting.”

Gendry turned his head towards Arya, who gave him a meaningful look.

“The thing is...” Yoren said while handing back the piece of parchment, seal unbroken “..these gutter rats belong to the Night’s Watch, now that puts them beyond the reach of kings and queens.” 

The messenger latched on to his sword in an attempt to unsheath it but Yoren was faster and pointed his dagger at the man’s crotch. Who in response reluctantly let his sword slide back into its sheath. 

“It’s a funny thing, people worry so much about their throats that they forget about what’s down below.”

Brothers had started to gather to see what the commotion was about. Yoren proceeded to state his threat.

“Now, I sharpened this knife before breakfast, I could shave a spider’s arse if wanted to.”

“Or..” he threw back the long cloak revealing the alarmed messenger’s leg. “I could nick this artery in your leg and once it’s nicked there is no one around’ere who knows how to un-nick it.”

He reached for the immobilized man’s sword.

“We’ll just keep that.” he tossed the blade on the ground from where one of the brothers picked it up.   


The other knight grabbed a hold of his own sword but realized he was outnumbered and wouldn’t stand a chance against the group of men which was ominously gathering around the two horses.

“Good steel is always needed on the wall.” 

Arya spied the whole scene from her cowered position behind the barrel. 

“It seems you have a choice” Yoren continued. “You can die here at this crossroads a long way from home, or you can go back to yer’ city and tell yer’ masters you didn’t find what you were looking for.” 

The two men stared at each other in silence while the second rider glanced around, again confirming there was no chance of them escaping their precarious situation. Eventually the first man decided to try aid their cause a different way.

“We are looking for a boy named Gendry.” he said loud enough for all to hear.

A dumbfounded look appeared on Gendry’s face.

“He carries a bull’s head helmet. Anyone turning him over will earn the king’s reward.”

Arya tensed up realizing the probability of one of their brothers turning in her only free roaming friend. 

“We’ll be back with more men.” he said and then added in a low growl directed at Yoren “and I’ll be taking your head home along with that bastard boy.” 

As the two riders turned their horses around and rode off, Gendry and Arya got up and felt the eyes of their whole company on them as everyone turned to stare at them.

“Come on, quit standing around and get this caravan on the road.” Yoren roared but Arya didn’t miss the concerned look on his face. 

Reluctantly the men proceeded their work and an less than an hour later Arya was walking at the back of the convoy with Gendry. 

“What did the Gold Cloaks want with you?” she whispered at him.

“No idea” he replied looking at his shoes.

“Liar.”

“You know you shouldn’t insult people that are bigger than you.”

“Then no one would get to insult anyone.” 

“I don’t know what they wanted, and nor do I care. But at least they were not after you.”

“Yeah.” Arya replied not knowing if she should be feeling relieved. The rest of the walk passed in relative silence each of them lost in their own thoughts. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for not giving up on me after I let you hanging for so long! Hope I made up for it and I promise (without a bravosi coin though) to try and post the next chapter sooner!


	7. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, my sincerest apologies for the ridiculously long wait...I totally got caught up in my other story ACoF... This chapter for the biggest part is a representation of what happens next in the series. Not so very original. I own nothing and all credit has to go to RR Martin and all the people that worked on making the series. I do have an important note about my story though where I don't follow the sequence of events like they happened in the series or the books: 
> 
> In my story Arya travels with Yoren after the Red Wedding has taken place. She knows her mother and brother Robb are dead but she doesn’t know the details of the massacre and thinks the Freys and the Boltons are behind it. 
> 
> Next chapters will be deviating from the original storyline way more. Thanks for reading!

It was almost sundown when the group arrived at a big abandoned barn where they tied up the horses and unpacked some of their things. Tomorrow would be a long march and Yoren instructed the men only to unpack the strictly necessary. It was a luxury that at this stop there was no need for tents and bedrolls. There was straw on the floor of the shed to sleep on and a fire could be lit inside to keep all of the men warm at night.

Hot Pie was cooking stew in a large pot over the fire and soon the marvelous smell filled the shelter.

Not much later everyone was full and content. Tired from the march, the food and the warmth of the fire they had fallen asleep on the straw. Except for Arya. She had taken a bowl of stew outside to Jaqen but as Yoren had walked with her she didn’t have a chance to stay and talk. The Lorathi had thanked her with his eyes, and somehow told her more and she wondered at how much the stranger could convey with a mere look.

Arya glanced around. Save for Yoren and the other brothers doing their rounds outside everyone was vast asleep due to the warmth of the shelter, their full bellies and the straining walk during the day. Some were softly snoring, some louder. Everyone except for her. Sleep wouldn’t come. She had thought about sneaking out to see Jaqen but the wagon was too close to the barn and placed too much out in the open. She wouldn’t be able to linger around without being spotted and would inevitably be sent back inside. She knew tomorrow would be a longer walk than today and thus needed her sleep but every time she closed her eyes she saw the faces of the people she had lost and the people responsible for it. In her head she counted them; Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, the Hound. She had started this routine not to forget the names of the people that had wronged her, and someday would have to pay for it. Alternating feelings of hate and sadness fought for supremacy in her young mind and kept it too active to send her into a slumber.

When she finally closed her eyes and started to lose control over her thoughts the sound of a horn instantly startled her back to full consciousness. They only blow the horn in case of emergency. She was already on her haunches while brothers around her started to realize something was wrong.

Yoren busted in loudly waking the men that had not already been woken by the sound of the horn and the bustle outside.

“Get up you lazy sons of ‘ores! Arm yerselves!” Yoren shouted taking his sword out of its scabbard.

Arya’s eyes met Gendry’s. The young man was shaking Hot Pie who seemed too deep into his slumber to wake up on his own. Her friend looked around confusedly, sleep still heavy on his face.

Yoren turned, walked towards Arya and Gendry and leaned into them.

“Keep out of sight both of ya.” Yoren warned the pair, his face earnest.

Arya and Gendry started to protest simultaneously.

“No, I’m not afraid..I.” Arya insisted.

“I’m fighting.” Gendry tried but Yoren repeated his warning and this time it almost sounded like a threat emphisised by the finger he alternately pushed Gendry and Arya in the chest with.

“Keep out of sight. If things go wrong, you run. Do you hear me.” He grabbed Arya by the doublet. “You run along North and don’t look back.”

She stared at the man with big eyes but he pushed her back before she could start to protest again and turned around roiling the other men.

“Hey, there’s men out there who want to fuck your corpses!” he opened the door.

“Outside, get out!”

The horn in the background melded with the sounds of the clattering of armor and weapons as the brothers of the Night’s Watch started chaotically pushing towards the door of the candlelit barn, unsure what to expect on the other side.

Arya and Gendry followed Yoren’s orders and moved along with the throng.

Hot Pie and Lommy got up and started to follow behind them until Lommy saw Gendry’s bulls head shaped helmet laying left behind in the dirt on the floor of the barn. He picked it up and stumbled in the direction of the door.

  


Outside the chaos was even bigger. It was dark and the chaotic clatter of weapons and screams were accompanied by the sounds of hooves and the whinnying of horses. It was hard to see where to place one’s feet on the uneven grass only lit by some torches and fire pits that created false shadows.

In the turmoil one of the men holding a torch tripped and fell, dropping the burning piece of wood into a patch of dry grass. He got up looking back but decided to run in the direction of the anarchy in an attempt to help his brothers as the fire started to spread.

Jaqen’s eyes reflected the fire that started to creep towards his confinement. He knew that if he did not take action somehow, he would burn alive but only if he wouldn’t get killed first by the Lannister men that had started to close in on the group’s camp from all sides now.  


“Where’s the bastard crow.” A tall dark man on a white steed baled at Yoren.

“Got more than a few bastards ‘ere, who’s askin’?”

“Ser Amory Lorch, sworn bannerman to Lord Tywin Lannister. These men from the capital requested our assistance. Drop your weapons in the name of the king.”

“Now which king would that be.” Yoren countered baldy feeling the presence of his own men behind him but not missing the fact they were outnumbered by better armed Lannisters on horseback.

The bannerman did could not appreciate his insolence.

“This is your last chance. In the name of king Joffrey, drop your weapons.”

For a second the leader of the crows seemed to consider the deal but then scraped his throat and spat on the floor.

“So be it.” Amory Lorch said calmly gesturing at one of his men holding a crossbow.

Before he could a look there was a whistling sound followed by a thud as an arrow hit Yoren in the chest.

Arya, who was hiding behind a bush, made an attempt to run towards the now wounded man but got roughly pulled back by Gendry.

“I’ve always hated crossbows.” Yoren said while he crawled up and stumbled to his feet grabbing his sword. He turned around and heaved his sword.

“Take to long to load!” he yelled as he struck the footman who was strapping a new arrow onto the bow.

The Lannister soldier dropped to the floor.

It was the start sign of war. All around them now crow’s swords clashed with Lannister steal and grunts and yells cut through the night’s silence.

Even wounded the tough old crow fought for two and managed to cut down at least three more men before he was stabbed in the back with a longspear. He kept on fighting wounding another man or two but when a second spear pierced his side he dropped his sword.

The two Lannisters who speared the man now heaved him to his feet like a puppet and before anyone could utter another word Amory Lorch slit his longsword in the gap between Yoren’s armor at the back of his neck. The sound of it was sickening. His eyes grew wide and blood started to gush from Yoren’s mouth. Then he sank to his knees making the blade jerkily slide out of his body covered in crimson blood.

Arya’s eyes were big with shock but when Gendry pushed past the bush and started to run she snapped out of her shock and ran after him closely followed by Hot Pie, Lommy and a couple more crows.

 

The group ran but Arya stumbled back towards the barn scanning the parameter for a way to reach the barred wagon where her Lorathi friend was locked up, without being by the Lannister adversaries.

When she reached the cage the flames had already started to claw at the wooden wheels of the wagon.

“Boy, sweet boy, come here.” Jaqen yelled over the sound of the turmoil and the crackling of the flames.

Arya ran toward the cage, eyes frantically scanning for a tool to break the bars.

“Free me boy, a man can fight.” He rasped.

She didn’t hesitate and ran towards a chopping block where an axe had been left behind stuck in the wood. She wrenched it loose and passed it to Jaqen. He stared at her as he grabbed the tool through the bars with shackled hands. In all the chaos Arya stared back at him and her heart froze. She could not tell why. Nor could she explain the feeling that seemed to fold around her insides.

Fear?

Pride?

Sadness?

No all, and some kind of wish but for what?

All around her the sound of swords clashing on armor, steal on steal, war cries and screams of men dying filled the air.

Jaqen broke the spellbinding focus the two of them seemed to have created with one word;

“Run.”  


A bit further on Gendry had smashed in the breastplate of an attacker with his warhammer, his weapon of choice, and now utilized it to swing at another opponent. As he hauled it backwards it got caught behind the fallen man’s limp body. The chance to grab a hold of the strong boy’s arms was not missed by one of the other soldiers. With no way to defend himself Gendry was overpowered by an armored man who first kicked him in the gut and then knocked him out with the pommel of his sword sending the dark haired blacksmith’s apprentice to the ground.

 

The look in Jaqen’s eyes and the urge behind the one word had pushed her away. As fast as her feet could carry her on the uneven ground Arya dashed around some bushes.

Everything went back for a couple of seconds followed by a dull pain that started to radiate from her chest. When she regained her breath and looked up, a bald man with beady eyes stood over her grinning. His grin disappeared when he saw Needle clasped in Arya’s fist.

“What do we have here.” He said while bending down to grab the thin blade.

“No!” Arya yelled unable to hold on as the man snatched the tiny sword from her hand and pointed it at her throat.

“That’s a fine little blade.” he said, then held it up to inspect it.

“Maybe I’ll pick my teeth with it.”

 

“I yield, I yield.” Hot Pie sputtered as he stumbled forward being pushed by one of his captors. Also the rest of the crow-prisoners were now gathered to the place where the clash had started. Yoren’s kneeling body still eerily sitting in the middle of the field.

“Round up any survivors, we’ll take them back to Harrenhall.” Ser Amory bellowed still mounted on his white horse.

Arya was roughly grabbed and pushed into line with the other surviving brothers all of which turned their head in the direction of a cry for help.

 

“Help, help me!” the voice belonged the Arya’s blond haired friend Lommy Greenhands who was laying in the grass with an arrow sticking out from just below his knee.

The bald man who had taken Needle walked towards him.

“Something wrong with your leg boy?” he shouted.

“Look at it.” Lommy said irritably trying to suppress his tears.

The man kneeled down at the blond boy’s feet and motioned his head towards the group who had been herded into a line.

“Can you walk?”

“No, you’ve got to carry me.” the boy replied.

The man sounded helpful as he rose to one knee and extended his hand.

“All right.”

When Lommy took the man’s hand and felt himself being pulled up, the lad pointed the tip of Needle at the hollow of Lommy’s throat and pulled him up into it. The tip of the slender and wickedly sharp sword piercing clean through the young boy’s throat. Lommy’s eyes grew big with surprise as he started to sputter blood from his mouth. Then he slid down off the sword and sank back to the ground coughing up blood until it stopped and his empty eyes stared at the blackness overhead.

“Carry him he says.” mocked the man with his now bloody sword. Some of his fellow soldiers laughed.

Arya cast her eyes down trying to deal with the shock.

 

With a thud Yoren’s lifeless body hit the ground as Amory Lorch pushed it over with his sword. The leader was still on his horse.

“We’re looking for a bastard named Gendry.” Lorch said. “Give him up, or I’ll start taking eyeballs.”

Some of the captured black brothers started shifting uncomfortably. They did not want to give up their brother but neither were they going to give up an eyeball.

Next to her Arya saw Gendry take a breath to ready himself. He looked down at her and then at the men.

 _No,_ Arya thought, _No, don’t..._

She desperately scanned the surroundings trying to come up with an idea. Her eyes flickered when she saw her chance laying next to her already dead friend.

“You want Gendry?” She said loud enough for all to hear.

Gendry tried not to look at her but the shock of Arya’s words were apparent on his face.

“You’ve already got him.”

She made a show of looking at Lommy and then to Gendry’s bull’s head helmet next to the boy in the grass.

“He loved that helmet.”

\---

It was hard for her to move her feet through the mud that sucked at her boots. The fatigue had started to set in and her stomach and chest ached. They were pushed towards the city that they had seen in the distance. The castle with scorched molten walls that towered into the fog of the sky above. Gendry and Hot Pie came to a halt in the wet mist that hung between the buildings staring up at the monstrosity, their hands bound like hers.

“What kind of fire melts stone?” Gendry asked staring up at the once mighty castle.

“Dragon fire.” Arya said in a flat tone.

Hot Pie turned his head with a look of terror.

“There’s dragons here?” he asked

“No, all the dragons are dead.” Gendry replied.

“What’s that smell?”

Arya answered. “Dead people.”

Hot Pie squeeled in horror. “We will be dead soon. They will lock us up like your weird friend and then they will burn us one by one.”

“Shut up.” Arya snapped.

Gendry looked at his small friend who he knew was a girl.

“He said he’d help and you set him free. Where is he now?”

“He left us. He said he would fight but he fled.” she said suppressing the anger and hurt that try to seep into her voice. She moved both her shackled hands to her left side and put her hand in her pocket where she felt the coin the Lorathi gave her against her fingers.

“Why are you even surprised? He was a criminal.” Hot Pie hissed. “Probably there for some terrible thing or another. Did you really think he was going to fight alongside us?”

She had but she kept her mouth shut.

Arya bit her lip. It hurt to hear it from her friends. She had trusted Jaqen when he said he would fight with them but she never saw him again. Maybe he hadn’t gotten out and had burned alive. She didn’t know what she wanted to believe. The idea that her friend had been killed in the fire, or the option that she had helped him and that he fled. Left her and her friends to be killed or captured by the Lannisters. Could she have been that wrong about him?

She squeezed the metal disc in her hand trying to swallow her hurt. Then she suddenly took the coin out of her pocket and flung it as far as she could into the mud a few yards from the path they were following. The dark copper disc disappeared out of sight. Without a word she moved back into the horde that was pushed and shoved towards the city gates. The two boys were grabbed hardhandedly and pushed back into the throng as well.

\---

They tried to shut out the sound of the agonized screams of the men and women that were being tortured but their harrowing cries cut through the souls of even the hardest men. They flinched when they heard the ripping of flesh, the cracking of bones and the gurgling of the ones that choked to death on their own blood. The guards wearing the red and gold Lannister armor killed men, women and children alike and Arya wondered how they could sleep at night.

Days of horror went by. Not only black brothers; villagers, farmers and people from the city were all locked up together. At night the shrinking group of captives slept in de mud in the roofless cage. Sometimes people would would wake up screaming trying to wake from a terrifying dream only to find themselves in the same nightmare upon awakening. Some of them went mad. They were taken and flayed and hung up for all to see by the men guarding the group.

The worst of them all was a man called the tickler. A gaunt lad who seemed to get off on torturing people. The only emotion on his face when people screamed and cried and begged for their lives was a cool kind of joy. He gave the orders to whip and flay and quarter, to beat and burn and scalp people stoically eating a pear while he thought of new ways to torment his victims. It seemed to amuse him to watch people suffer and almost looked annoyed when a body would give in and his fun was over.

 

Arya woke with the screaming of men beating people with sticks to get up. Horse hooves and turmoil in the distance had all the guards up and running around frantically.

Men dropped to the knee or lowered their head when he came in sight.

An old man with shiny black and gold armor and a pristine crimson cloak draped across his chest seated upon a big white horse. His hair was thin and white but it was apparent that it had once been golden blonde, evidence of which was still visible in parts of his neat beard. He descended from his horse and looked at the bedraggled group of prisoners covered in mud and blood, chained to the sty that they were kept in.

“What’s this?” he muttered. His voice was low and serious.

“We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow Lord Tywin.” Amory Lorch replied while taking the reins of the white steed from the lord.

“Hm, evidently not.” the old man scoffed looking around at the mess.

He walked toward the sty and asked.

“Why are these prisoners not in their cells?”

“The cells were overflowing my lord.” the Lannister ally replied.

“This lot won’t be here long.” the bald man chimed in. “Don’t need no permanent place. After we interrogate them we usually just..” he pointed at the severed heads on spikes and the bloody flayed carcasses hung from the castle walls.

“Are we so well-manned that we can afford to discard able young bodies and skilled laborers?”

When the man didn’t reply Tywin shook his head.

He walked past the captives and stopped in front of Gendry.

“You, you have a trade?”

“Blacksmith my lord.” The blue eyed young man replied.

Tywin looked at the bald man with a look that said - see, just what we needed.

Arya observed the scene between the Lord of Lannister, the bald man and her friend closely but was distracted by the sight of Needle strapped to the bald man’s belt. Her gaze kept wandering to the crude man’s hip until suddenly he turned his head and noticed.

“What are you looking at! Kneel!”

He drew his sword and swung it at her but Arya easily managed to dodge his attack. He now pointed the sword at her chest.

“Kneel or I’ll cut your lungs out boy!”

Tywin leisurely walked towards the two and leaned on a pole.

“You’ll do no such thing.” He said calmly and with a strange kind of grin. He looked Arya up and down.

“This one’s a girl, you idiot.” he gave Arya an interrogative look. “Dressed as a boy. Why?”

“Arya wobbled on her feet but looked straight at the older man with a mixture of audacity, timidity and practiced courtesy on her face.

“Safer to travel my lord.” she answered him.

“Smart.” he said with an entertained and slightly surprised expression.

“More than I can say for this lot.”

The insult in front of the captives clearly upset Amory and the bald man but the only thing they could do was keep their cool in front of their lord.

“Get these prisoners to work.” Tywin said, irritation and ennui clear in his voice, as he turned around and started to stride in the direction of the castle.

“And bring the girl.”

He turned and looked at Arya.

“I need a new cupbearer.”

Then he turned and strode off.

The bald man leaned into the fence, bringing his face closer to Arya’s.

“You will pay for this you little cunt!” he hissed.

His foul breath made Arya’s stomach turn.

\---

She already hated Tywin Lannister. She didn’t know the old man and it was true that being his cupbearer came with a lot of benefits; she slept in a bed instead of in the mud, was given meals and finally was able to take the bath she had so longed for. But he was a Lannister and therefore responsible for the death of her father. It had been _his_ grandson who gave the order to behead Eddard Stark and so she hated the man.

The meal that was in front of her was simple but infinitely better than the potato peels and crusts of bread she had had to survive on the last couple of days. But no matter how much her stomach indicated the opposite, she did not have an appetite. She reluctantly finished her plate anyway and got up from the kitchen table.

Her tasks were clear. Fetch water, serve wine and food, clean the table, run errands, deliver messages and any other task the lord had for her.

Her feet, now dressed in a pair of clean boots, climbed the stairs of the tower where Lord Tywin Lannister resided. It had taken her a while to scrub the dirt from her body and hair and the clothes she had been wearing had smelled too faul to be washed so with the boots, she was now wearing a cream colored doublet with a dark brown leather jacket strapped together with a leather belt and soft brown breeches. The clothes were not new but they fit her well and they were comfortable.

It had taken her some trouble to convince the maid that she really did not want to wear the dress that was prepared for her and only after throwing the garment onto the floor where it soaked up the water that had dripped from the ceiling into a puddle, the maid gave up and let her wear the clothes the girl preferred.

“Lord Tywin will not be pleased.” She had tried but Arya did not think the old man cared for fashion and ignored the maid’s further protestations.

At the bottom as well as at top of the stairs she had to pass a guard. Upstairs the tall man with dark eyes and pitch black close cropped hair eyed her suspiciously.

“Lord Tywin sent for me, I’m his cupbearer.” Arya explained when the guard did not to take action himself.

The guard looked her up and down and finally stepped aside without a word.

Arya quickly slipped past the man and knocked on the wooden door at the top of the stairs.

“Come in.” Tywin’s regal voice came from the other side.

Arya quickly looked back at the guard, who stood sentinel with his back towards her, before opening the door and stepping in to Tywin Lannister’s room.

 

The room was fairly dark and drafty but spacious and warmer than the rest of the castle. In the giant hearth burned a fire and in front of it the lord of Casterly Rock sat at a big wooden table writing on a piece of parchment.

“Didn’t the maid show you the clothes you were to wear?” he said raising an eyebrow when he looked up at her.

“She did my lord.” Arya replied. “But i find it hard to move in a dress.”

“Hm.” he said.

“Where are you from girl?” He put down his pencil.

“Maidenpool, my lord.” Arya said timidly.

“Maidenpool. And what did you do in Maidenpool?”

“My father was a... stonemason, my lord. I used to help him sometimes.”

“Was?”

“He died not long ago.” Arya cast her eyes down.

A knot started to form in her gut when she thought about her father, beheaded by the grandson of the man she now had to serve.

“And what were you doing out with those men heading for the wall?”

“After my father died, I was on my own. Without the income my father provided I could not survive...so I decided to travel in the directions of the Saltpans to find my uncle and his family. I ran into the group of black brothers and thought it might be safer to travel with them as a boy instead of on my own.” Arya lied smoothly looking up at the lord.

She remembered playing the Game of Faces with Jaqen. For a second her thoughts were about to drift off but the voice of the man across from her brought her back to the conversation.

“What about your mother?”

Arya cast her eyes down. It gave her time to model her story.

“She died giving birth to my brother.” Arya said staring at her feet.

She heard the old man’s breath catch and then heard him inhale deeply. The legs of the heavy wooden seat screeched when he pushed the chair back. He was standing now but Arya didn’t dare to look up. She started when she suddenly felt his hand on her shoulder. When she lifted her head Tywin Lannister was looking down at her but he looked different. The hard pale eyes had changed. There was something soft in them now, a look of empathy. It made Arya feel strange.

“My wife too, died in the labour bed.” The Warden of the West said gravely.

Arya let her eyes drift down again. She had heard Joanna Lannister, who also happened to be Tywin’s first cousin, had died giving birth to Tyrion, the dwarf son of the lord she had seen when the royal family had come to Winterfell. She wanted to be glad that it had saved the world from one more Lannister but the look in her interlocutor’s eyes made her heart ache. It seemed the man had really loved his wife.

“I am sorry to hear that my lord.” she mumbled.

There was a long stretched silence but then the lord regained his composure. He swallowed and then straightened his shoulders. The detached look was back on his face but his voice sounded less strict.

“Go and fetch some wine and bring some wood for the fire, it’s getting cold.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you liked the chapter. Now that I am writing on it again there will probably be more but I don't want to make any promises because I don't know what my life will look like in the near future. I strive to update more regularly and the next chapters will be more original. I'd be very happy if you guys could help me by commenting so that I know what you think and can take your advice with me in the following chapters!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people, thank you for reading, hope you like it and will read the next chapters as well.  
> Please let me know in the comments what you think of this chapter and help me become a better writer!  
> (If anyone is interested in checking my work before I post it I would be very thankful!)
> 
> All credits go to G. R.R. Martin for his brilliant work and mind!


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